"An' wot jer goin' to revolute about?" enquired Bindle, gazing at Ginger's face, which Windover has described as "freckled with stupidity."
For a few minutes Ginger was silent, thinking laboriously.
"Look at the price of beer?" he at length challenged with inspiration.
"Well, Ging, ain't you an ole 'uggins. 'Jer think you'll get cheap beer if yer makes George and Mary 'op it? Not you, ole son. Wot you'll most likely get is no beer at all, same as in America."
"That's a lie!" We were all startled at the anger in Ginger's voice, as he flashed a sullen challenge round the room.
"Don't get 'uffy, ole sport. Wot's a lie?" enquired Bindle, unmoved by Ginger's outburst.
"That they ain't got no beer in America," snarled Ginger.
"J.B. is quite right," murmured Windover soothingly. "In some States there's no drink of any sort."
Ginger gazed from one to the other, bewilderment and alarm stamped upon his face.
"Well I'm——" began Ginger.